


Where You're Meant to Be

by BrighteyedJill



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Axii (The Witcher), Character Death, Established Relationship, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Self-Sacrifice, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26915725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrighteyedJill/pseuds/BrighteyedJill
Summary: A mage has set a trap for Geralt that could cause immense destruction, and Geralt and Eskel must find a way to disarm it.
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Comments: 13
Kudos: 41
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Where You're Meant to Be

**Author's Note:**

> Written for whumptober for the prompt "For the greater good." Thanks to beckles for the beta assistance. And yes, I have been watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer season 5 recently, why do you ask/

Eskel stared in dismay at the hissing, spitting ball of magical energy. Beside him, Geralt growled. The mage, dead at their feet, did not comment. 

“There must be a talisman or an amulet or something.” Geralt knelt to search the sorcerer’s body. “Killing him should have stopped it.”

“Well, it didn’t.” Eskel took a step forward to look at the spell, construct, whatever-it-was. Curses often disappeared with their caster, but this was obviously something else, something larger. The bright sphere of energy had grown from the size of a bomb to the size of a small wyvern in the time it had taken them to kill the mage. It hung in the air just past the edge of the cliff, throwing off sparks and rotating slowly. 

Eskel reached out a hand. A tendril of power reached out from the thing and curled around Eskel’s fingers, cold and burning. He drew back with a hiss, and put his singed fingers in his mouth for a moment, before realizing they were still streaked with blood and pulling them out again. This was like nothing Eskel had ever encountered before, and it was way, way over his head in terms of magical theory. 

If Yennefer or Triss had been here, then maybe… But they weren’t. He and Geralt were, and it was up to them to deal with the problem. 

“Did he say anything?” Eskel asked. Geralt had spent longer than Eskel would have liked playing helpless captive while Eskel had circled around to get behind the mage for a coordinated attack. “About the magic?”

“Yes.” Geralt had given up on searching the body and sat back on his heels, staring at the still-growing magical energy. “That the spell was keyed to witcher blood. And the only way to stop it was for me to die.”

“Geralt.” Eskel’s breath caught in his throat, and he couldn’t force out any more words.

“He knew what he was doing.” Geralt pushed to his feet and didn’t take his eyes from the magic. “He set this trap for me, specifically. He wanted me dead even if it killed him.” 

Geralt took a step towards the cliff’s edge, and Eskel moved to block him. “Wolf--”

“Witcher blood. My blood.” Geralt settled his hands on Eskel’s hips and leaned their foreheads together. “That’s the only thing that will stop this spell from growing and consuming everything in its path. It needs a sacrifice.”

“You believe that will work?” Eskel asked. He hadn’t tangled with the mage before the end, hadn’t heard what Geralt had about any possible solutions, so he had to trust Geralt’s judgement.

“He’d been planning this for a long time,” Geralt said grimly. “I absolutely believe he designed this to kill me.”

“All right.” Eskel pulled away so he could look at Geralt. “Then it’s clear what we have to do.”

“Eskel.” Geralt’s voice was unsteady. His heart was beating almost human fast, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. “I’m sorry I brought you with me.”

“I’m not,” Eskel said. He smiled a little. Even after all these years, Geralt still didn’t realize how much he meant to Eskel, would never believe he meant so much to anyone. “I’m right where I’m meant to be.”

Geralt frowned at him. Eskel gathered his will and breathed in, marshalling his power, then shaped his fingers to form Axii. 

For an instant, Geralt’s eyes widened in panic, but then they glazed over. 

“Don’t blame yourself for this, alright, Wolf?” Eskel said quietly. He took Geralt’s unresisting hands in his. “It was my choice. I want you to enjoy a long life with the rest of the people that love you.”

He leaned in to press his lips to Geralt’s for the last time. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted, with Geralt still and passive beneath him, but it was all he could have if he wanted to keep Geralt alive. He let go of Geralt’s hands and stepped back.

“Go back to the village,” he said, putting extra force into the command. 

Geralt turned and walked away. Eskel watched him go until he was out of sight around a bend in the path, then turned back to the shimmering mass of magical power.  
\--

Geralt came back to himself on the road just outside of the village. He started, then blinked and looked around to get his bearings. Hadn’t he been somewhere else? Hadn’t he been with--Eskel. 

Geralt turned and sprinted back along the road. They’d spent half the day tracking the mage, and now the sun was sinking in the sky, turning the clouds a bloody red. He had to stop and double back to find the place where his and Eskel’s tracks left the road. Stumbling over rocks and roots in his frantic haste, he followed the tracks he and Eskel had made as they’d followed the mage’s trail. Gasping for breath, he climbed the hill to where the magic had gathered. And he stopped at the edge of the cliff where the spell had been cast, where he’d left Eskel. 

There was no magical energy there, and no Eskel, either.

Geralt stepped forward slowly, his feet carrying him without conscious input. He looked over the side of the cliff. 

Eskel’s body lay sprawled on the rocks below. His eyes were open, his limbs spread, head tilted to the side so the worst of his scar didn’t show. There was no vibration in Geralt’s medallion, either from the curse or from residual witcher magic. 

Geralt scrambled down the loose shale face of the cliff with no care for the cuts and scrapes he collected. He fell to his knees beside Eskel and reached out to touch without jostling him--what if Eskel was injured, if he’d hurt his neck, if he’d been bleeding all this time? Geralt had Swallow in his pouch. He could help. It hadn’t been that long of a fall. But when he tried to pull Eskel into his lap, the body was stiff. 

The body. Eskel’s body.

Geralt froze for a long moment, feeling as if all the blood had drained out of him, leaving him hollow. But he could move, he told himself. He could move, and Eskel couldn’t. 

Geralt pulled Eskel’s body up against his chest and wrapped him in his arm, tucking his face into Eskel’s hair. Geralt sat holding on to him, soaking in the last warmth of his brother as the evening light gave way to darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> For things that are usually not this sad, come find me on Tumblr: [brighteyedjill](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/brighteyedjill)


End file.
